Remembering You
by Seasonal Dreamer
Summary: When you're up at night thinking, lying on your bed as you stare unseeingly at your ceiling, that's when things weighs on your mind the most. That's when you remember things from a whole different perspective. Marco and Dylan one-shot :
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **_Remembering You_

**Author: **Seasonal Dreamer

**Disclaimer: **I do not, nor have I ever, owned a single thing from Degrassi. Just, you know, putting that out there.

**Author's Note: **Okay so, first of all, I _am_ working on another, longer story, but I don't expect it to be done for a while. But, you know, just a head's up :P

Second, this is a one-shot, my first one by the way, which, in case you don't know, pretty much means that I wrote this all down at once in a spur of the moment kind of thing and I didn't feel like editing it :P haha, well it does in this case so...

Read and review! Oh, yeah, and enjoy! :)

* * *

When you're up at night thinking, lying on your bed as you stare unseeingly at your ceiling, that's when things weighs on your mind the most. That's when you're true emotions finally become clear. That's when you remember things from a whole different perspective.

Tonight was one of those nights. Dylan crossed his arms behind his head as his unblinking blue eyes fixed itself on the light above him. It was off, of course, and it was pitch black in his room, but that hardly bothered him. The darkness helped, somehow, to clear his thoughts.

The wind howled and screeched in the night, rattling the window pane and making whoever was outside scrunch into themselves even more as they tried to hide from it. But Dylan was unaffected. The moonlight that used to fascinate him seemed unimpressive. The late-night hockey game that his coach had emphasized the importance of had been forgotten. He would pay dearly for it later, but he couldn't care less at the moment.

So now begs the all-important question. Why in the world was Dylan Michalchuk, the star hockey player, up at all hours of the night just...staring? Not playing hockey? Not, well, _sleeping?_ That was an easy question to answer though.

It was because of Marco.

Marco del Rossi.

Even thinking the name sent a stupidly goofy smile rippling across his face. However the smile was soft, warm and loving, because ladies and gentlemen, Dylan loved him. Dylan loved Marco, and that was all there was to it.

Or so you would think.

The problem, however foolish it might seem to outside viewers, was that Dylan wasn't sure whether Marco loved _him._ Or whether, despite him not knowing, he should just tell him. It was one of those on-going, behind-the-scenes type of battle that often sent Dylan into mental lapses and make Marco have to tap him on the shoulder to make sure he was still all there.

Little did the younger Italian know that Dylan was thinking about him. About his smile. How that one little smile could send shivers down Dylan's spine even on the warmest of days. How his hair was the epitome of softness. Dylan loved to run his fingers through that hair again and again, marveling quietly at how perfect it seemed. How those eyes were more of a mystery then Atlantis. They held things in them that Dylan couldn't hope to place, held feelings and memories...held light in them that seemed entirely their own. Dylan spent all his free-time thinking about him. Thinking about whether he did love him, which he did, and when he should, if ever, tell him.

Dylan rolled on to his side and his eyes fell on the sugar maple tree outside his window. It towered towards the sky and a sudden memory got triggered in his head.

He remembered when, in a fit of randomness and some obvious underlining insanity, Marco and himself attempted to build a tire swing to attach to that tree. It was definitely strong enough, and Marco had confessed that he had never actually been on one before. So, of course, that wasn't going to be true for much longer, not with Dylan Michalchuk around.

Unfortunately, neither Dylan nor Marco exactly had an extra tire that they could just pull out of their back pocket, so, grinning madly, they snuck into the garage and took a garbage lid off the can. He remembered the cute wrinkle Marco's nose had made at the smell and they spent the next hour scrubbing it clean until it nearly sparkled. The two then grabbed a skipping rope that the Michalchuks' still had from when Dylan's sister Paige was younger and tied it to the handle. It took several tries, but, funnily enough, it was the dark haired boy that managed to throw the skipping rope and the trash lid over the lowest branch. Dylan remembered how proud Marco looked of himself. His face practically glowed.

But now came the hardest part; what, exactly, were they going to tie the rope to? Anyone who's seen a sugar maple knows that their trucks can be pretty thick, so how were they going to support the swing? It was Dylan who thought of the solution.

Smiling mischievously, Dylan had sprinted to the garage and started dragging out the taken-apart basketball pole that had been stowed away for years. In no time flat the couple had put it together and tied a tight knot around the pole. Dylan had insisted that Marco get first try, and with a hesitant but trusting smile, Marco gingerly sat on and swung.

It was a silly thing, really, to remember. To do, to be perfectly honest. What did they really accomplish? It seemed like an awful lot of work just to make a stupid swing that didn't look anything like how they had imagined it. But it was the little things that made Dylan love him. It was these little, silly actions from Marco's warm smile to his first initial idea of building a tire swing to begin with.

A grin had now cracked the older blonde's face as he sat up, too hyped up on the act of simply remembering his boyfriend to lie still. Dylan started walking around his room in circles, trying to tire himself out before he mentally threw in the towel and realized that this wasn't going to help him any time soon.

But now it seemed the tire swing memory paved the way for triggers of everything he and Marco had done together to come flashing before his eyes. It was like an epiphany in the making. The sweater that hung innocently in his closet reminded him of when he had given it to Marco to wear when the younger boy had started shivering in the cold one day. The hoodie had been _entirely_ too big for him and seemed to swallow him up whole, but the quiet blush that had formed was what Dylan remembered the most.

The hockey puck that rested on his shelf made him think of the time he had gotten six goals in a single game. That was the first game Marco had ever gone to, and the blonde still held on to the idea that Marco was his lucky charm.

His bed reminded him of the time Marco fell asleep while studying, the Italian's face so perfectly unguarded and beautiful. He remembered how his face had fallen into a soft smile as Marco curled up against him like a cat while they lay on his sheets. That had been the first time Dylan ever listened to his heartbeat.

Yes, Dylan knew he loved him. The younger boy just didn't know how much.

And as Dylan thought this, he realized how sad a fact it really was. How he could stand one more minute of not letting this gorgeous and damn near perfect boy know how much he was loved by him? Dylan knew now that he was ready to take that risk.

Smiling gently to himself, Dylan crawled back under his covers and closed his eyes, knowing that tomorrow Marco would finally know. Yes, Dylan knew he loved him, and as he remembered all those memories they had made, Dylan was suddenly sure Marco loved him too. And Dylan wasn't afraid to tell him anymore. After all, being in love meant not being afraid of being vulnerable. Being in love meant not only falling yourself, but catching the other person when _they_ fell, and never letting go.

* * *

**Author's Note #2:** So what'd you think? Good? Bad? Maybe even a little odd? Click the review button and let me know :) It doesn't take long. But please, my one condition is no flames. They're the only things _not _welcome.

I'll let anyone who's interested know when my longer story will be up :) Just, you know, tell me if you are :P haha

~ S.D.


	2. IMPORTANT NOTICE

DON'T PANIC.

If you don't remember favouriting and/or following me, you're not going crazy. You've just done so while I was under a different name.

I'm still the same author; my name has just been changed. Why, you ask? Well, it's a bit of a funny story.

You see, some 'followers' I guess you can call them have added me on Facebook, and I'm not discrediting that; I love talking to you guys. But being the fool that I was and using my real name as my (former) username, some have abused the faith I put in you guys. For the past little while, I've been getting an alarming amount of messages on my Facebook from people who really didn't become my friend to talk about writing 'so to speak.' All the people who have done this have been blocked and unfriended and all that (if you haven't been blocked, then don't worry about this; we're still friends!), but I'm forced to change my name.

Unfortunately, in nearly all of my stories (if not all) I have listed my (former) username, so starting TOMORROW MAY 1ST I am going to be reuploading all of my stories with the changed name listed. Don't worry; nothing else will be changed, and any stories that you favourited/followed should still be accessible to you. But sadly, I'm afraid that all of your lovely reviews might be erased Please don't feel the need to re-review them, but if you are so inclined, they will always be appreciated.

And I must ask to any of you that are my friends on Facebook that I haven't blocked, PLEASE do not talk about any of my stories on my wall. Inbox me instead. I must be strict about this; starting tomorrow, if I find any comments regarding my works, they will be deleted. If you persist, I'm afraid you will also be unfriended and/or blocked.

I'm sorry for the inconvenience to the people who have been nothing but kind to me.

I'll be posting this notice in all of my stories as well as on my profile.


End file.
